Twisted
by sdbubbles
Summary: "It's twisted, messed up, and the more I think about it, it's crazy but so what? I'm caught up and I'm hanging on; I'm gonna love you even if it's wrong, even if it's twisted." Because, after all, both of them are only human.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Not a clue how I came up with this, but I hope you all like it.**

**Sarah x**

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"Ms. Campbell, I'd rather like a word if you have-" he began at her office door, but stopped short when the smell of alcohol hit his senses. "Ah."

Well, there was no point in talking to her once she had a drink in her – she was stubborn enough at the best of times. What _did_ bother him was that it was past seven o'clock, over an hour after she was meant to leave, and yet here she sat drinking in the AAU consultants' office. He knew she was still here, but he thought she was finishing paperwork.

"What do you want?" she snapped, knocking back the last of a glass of whisky. He forgave her her tone of voice, as it was abundantly obvious that she'd had more than one drink. Many more, going by the state of her.

"I was going to talk to you about the reports you're writing up, but clearly you are past the stage of discussing your work," he said calmly, reminding himself that there was a reason she was so drunk and had opted to stay here rather than go home. He then realised that, as much as she had made his life difficult, he couldn't just leave her here to attempt to drive home drunk. His conscience wouldn't permit it.

He found her coat, her bag and her mobile phone and took them in his hands. "What are you doing?" she demanded, her speech slightly slurred.

"I am taking you home," he answered her, forcing his tone to remain calm while hers became more and more agitated. Serena Campbell, ever the professional, did _not_ sit in her office and get drunk. Normally.

"I'm perfectly capable-"

"No, Serena, you're not," he cut across her, using her first name to try and convince her he was doing this out of kindness and concern for her safety, and not because he didn't particularly wish one of his consultants to remain in the hospital when they were like this. "Come on," he ordered her, helping her to her feet. She was unsteady, so he held her by the top of her arm.

This was the first crack he'd ever seen in her, and it alarmed him to discover that this was what happened when Serena Campbell cracked. She'd always seemed composed, even when she found herself up to her neck in political mess, and her colleagues, thanks to her, in the same situation or worse. Only something deeply personal would have driven her to do this in such a public place, especially when she was so well known for her strangely endearing personality and humour, not to mention her ruthless business head.

He managed to safely get her into his car; she protested all the way across the car park and, of course, he completely disregarded her objections. "Don't you dare!" she warned him when he gently pushed her head down so she wouldn't hit it off the door frame. The fresh air had hit her and she was evidently succumbing to the full volume of alcohol taking over her body and mind.

He rolled his eyes and replied, "Oh, please do be quiet."

With that, he got in and started the engine, pulling up the map on his phone. "What's your address?" he sighed. She said nothing so he repeated more firmly, "Your address, Ms. Campbell?!"

She mumbled a number and a street he only just heard and entered it into his phone, and it plotted a course for her home. What on Earth possessed her to do that? She was normally logical and rational, not reckless and moronic. He kept driving in silence, not wishing to talk to someone who probably didn't realise she was speaking out of place. He followed the instructions given to him by his mobile and parked outside what he presumed was her home.

He collected her belongings, and went around to open her door. He took her by the arm and pulled her to her feet; she immediately lost her balance and fell forward. He caught her, surprised by the warmth of her body. To his slight astonishment, he found the fact she had let herself come to pieces, and the news that she actually didn't have a heart of stone, quite endearing. Because to hurt enough to turn to drink unexpectedly, she had to have a heart to hurt.

Upon entering her home, he saw a photo of Serena and a teenage girl he assumed was her daughter. But by the silence, he also assumed she was not home. "I think..." she said, and she started to gag, and he realised she was going to throw up. He let her guide him to the bathroom while he held her upright, and he helped her to the floor. He winced as she was sick, and he wondered once more why she'd got herself this drunk.

He surprised himself again by stroking her hair gently, pulling any stray strands away from her face, even though they were short. He left her to get her a drink of water, and when he returned, she was leaning against the wall, tears in her eyes. He would've asked her what was wrong had he thought he'd have received a coherent answer, so instead, he lifted her to her feet. They climbed the stairs one by one, very carefully; Henrik was aware he was crossing every line and boundary known to him, but his first concern was her safety, and that of her daughter if she ever decided to return home.

They entered her bedroom and it was the perfect representation of her – neat, but full of little bits and pieces on dressers and the window sill. He pulled back the covers and sat her down on the bed, completely convinced at this point that she was past knowing what was happening around her. He pulled off her boots and helped her lie down, pulling the covers back over her. As soon as he head hit the pillow, her eyes closed and she began to drift into what he feared would be an uneasy sleep.

Once Henrik was back downstairs, in the living room, he wondered what course of action he should take. He didn't want to leave Serena here on her own in case she hurt herself, and he didn't want to leave her here for her daughter to discover passed out. He never thought he'd ever have been so concern for her, and he didn't think he'd have been so conflicted, but still here he was. He'd already crossed a line by taking her here. What was the harm in waiting for her daughter to arrive home?

He removed his shoes – unaware of whether or not Serena permitted them to be worn in her house – and sat down on the sofa, looking around her. It was a lovely house, but it also genuinely felt like a home for her. Pictures, ornaments, the coffee table was covered in teen magazines, bottles of loudly coloured nail polish, television remote discarded casually...something told him this was where Serena's daughter spent most of her time.

He felt himself relax which, especially since he was in someone else's home, was unusual for him. Maybe because the past six or seven months had drained him completely, but he was suddenly accepting that he was going to end up falling asleep here. He laid his head back and closed his eyes, and it wasn't long before he fell asleep...

He woke suddenly when he heard a call of, "Sorry I'm late, Mum! Jennifer's mum insisted on driving me home and then she hit black ice and did a three-sixty. After I got over the shock, it was quite exhilarating," she added with a laugh. She entered the living room, and her eyes fell on Hanssen. "Who are you, what are you doing in my house and where the hell is my mum?" she demanded calmly.

"My name is Henrik Hanssen, your mother's boss," he answered her first question. "I took your mother home as she was drunk and I didn't deem it wise to leave her here alone in that state," he continued. "And lastly, Your mother is sleeping upstairs."

The girl assessed him and, upon deciding he meant no harm, "I'm her daughter. Eleanor," she introduced herself, and Henrik held out a hand for her to shake. "Cup of coffee?" she offered.

"That would lovely, thank you," he replied. He followed her to the kitchen, realising this girl had been expecting this to happen today. Perhaps that was why she stayed at her friend's house for so long. "Aren't you worried about your mother?"

"Of course I am," she replied. "But I expected it today. It's two years today since my gran died. Needless to say, Mum didn't take it very well," she explained. Hanssen gave her a questioning look. She sighed and continued, "It was all very sudden. She'd been ill for months but didn't say anything. We didn't find out until she was hours away from dying. She died before we could get to the hospital, so Mum never got the chance to say goodbye."

"I'm sorry," he said sincerely.

"Yeah," she agreed. "Me too."

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**Hope this is alright!  
Please feel free to review and tell me what you thought!  
Sarah x**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Thanks for the lovely reviews, first off! Second, this isn't exactly what I planned for this chapter. Mind you, there isn't much I plan in my head that turns out the same once it's written. And last, the title and lyrics from the listings page are from the song "Twisted" by Carrie Underwood.**

**Sarah x**

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They sat down on the sofa, Eleanor putting her feet up on the coffee table. Henrik just smirked to himself, wondering whether she would have done that had her mother been watching. He sipped his coffee, noting how strong it was. Obviously this girl took after her mother in that she liked her caffeine. "Does you mother often take turns like these?" he asked, finding himself genuinely concerned.

"Not really," she replied. "Just when there's something to forget."

"Ah," he said. "You know, I never thought a woman as strong-willed and ruthless would rely on alcohol to relieve pain."

"You've not seen her in pain before now, have you?" she said, and he could do nothing but shake his head. The more he thought about it, the more he realised that she was not in fact cold or heartless. For her, two years later, to still be in pain over the circumstances surrounding her mother's death, she was not as tough as she led her colleagues to believe. "Can you stay here tonight? It's just that the roads really are awful out there, and I'm not sure I want you to drive in it."

"As I recall, you described your experience with black ice as _exhilarating_," Henrik reminded her.

"Doesn't mean it was safe," she retorted. "And..." she hesitated.

"And?" he repeated, encouraging her to make him aware of her true reasons for wishing him to stay the night in her home.

"And I've got to go to work in the morning, and I'm not sure I want to leave her here alone," she explained. "I'll be long gone by the time she wakes up and I was wondering if..."

"...if I would stay and ensure she is safe and well in the morning," he finished for the girl. He didn't particularly wish to face Serena's probable hungover, short temper in the morning. But, for Eleanor's sake, he decided he was going to. It wasn't fair to leave her to deal with her mother on her own, regardless of how many times she'd done it before. "Of course I will," he promised her. He looked at his watch and added, "If you intend on working in the morning, I suggest you'd better go to bed."

"Oh, I hadn't noticed the time," she confessed. "Just let me set the sofa bed up-"

"There's no need," he waved away her offer, but she was as persistent as her mother.

"Don't be silly. You're way too tall to sleep on the sofa like that," she grinned. She got up and got a duvet and pillows, and gestured for him to stand up. They pulled out the sofa bed together, and threw the duvet across it.

"Thank you," he said, and she smiled gratefully; he was quickly realising that Serena's daughter worried more than she let her mother know about, and that Serena might have been ruthless, and calculating, and she may have went around him many times, but he still wanted her to be happy and at peace. He didn't quite understand it.

"Good night, Mr. Hanssen," she smiled.

"Good night," he returned.

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Hanssen woke groggily the next morning, looking at the clock on the opposite wall. To his shock, he realised he'd slept until ten in the morning. Not a normal occurrence for him, but he couldn't help but feel it had been what he needed after all the sleepless nights and over-thinking. He got out of bed, and decided that he should check on Serena.

Once he was fully dressed and awake, he made his way up the stairs to her bedroom, knocking lightly. He heard no reply so decided she was still asleep; he went in and stood over her for a moment. He wasn't entirely sure of what he was meant to be doing. He wasn't keen on waking her; he didn't want to startle her, not mention answer the questions she was sure to ask. But despite this, he crouched down and shook her shoulder gently.

"Ms. Campbell," he said quietly. "Come on. Time to get up."

She stirred and opened her eyes. "Mr. Hanssen?" she asked. The shock seemed to wake her up faster than anything else could have, and she propped herself up on one elbow, staring at him as if checking her eyes were not deceiving her. "What are you doing here?"

"I took you home last night," he told her, not at all surprised that she couldn't recall what happened. "You were drunk," he accused lightly.

"Oh, God," she groaned. "Please tell me I didn't drink Michael's stash of whisky."

"Most of it," he replied, and she buried her face in her pillow. "I'll let you get dressed and then I'll make you some breakfast," he informed her, standing up. She looked up at him, wondering why he was doing this; he could also tell she was currently thankful for the small mercy that it was Saturday and she didn't have to work. Actually, even if she _was_ due to work today, he wouldn't have let her. He wouldn't have let her within a million miles of AAU in the knowledge that she'd got so drunk the night before.

He, for some reason unknown to him, reached down and pushed her hair behind her ear. He wasn't entirely certain why, but he felt he was softening to the woman who crossed many lines – putting unauthorised schemes into place, going over his head, sending Jac after him, and not to mention having his email accounts hacked into.

He left her and went to the kitchen, finding the makings of pancakes. As he prepared them, he thought about Serena. Why she'd broke her own heart last night. Why she turned to drink rather than face it. Why he was feeling so uncertain about her. All of a sudden, after everything; he couldn't even begin to make heads nor tails of it.

Once the pancakes were made, he decided to find Serena and make sure she wasn't sick. He didn't know how alcohol affected her; he'd known people who'd never been hungover in their life regardless of how much they drank, and others who paid dearly for their choice the day after. "Ms. Campbell?" he called, climbing the stairs and keeping to her professional title to try and maintain some form of boundary between them.

"Yeah, just coming," she replied. When she emerged, she was wiping the last of her tears on her sleeve. Evidently the alcohol had done nothing to ease the pain. It had only delayed it for her to face when the numbness wore off. "Sorry," she mumbled.

"Right," he asserted. "I have had quite enough of this. First, you get drunk on the ward, then you're in tears. What is wrong with you?" he demanded. He already knew, of course, but he wanted to hear it from her.

"Are your parents still alive?" she asked.

"No," he answered honestly.

"Did you get to say goodbye?" she added, coming closer to him just slightly. That hit a nerve for him; he hadn't been able to say anything to his mother, and only just got to say to his father that the past was behind them now.

"Yes and no."

There was a tense silence between them, and it was Serena who finally broke it. "Two years ago, my mum died. And I never got to say anything to her," she explained. "Yesterday was the anniversary and I guess it just hit me hard."

"Yes, well, drinking is hardly the answer," he told her sternly. "It did nothing to help you. And don't even bother saying it helped you forget, because when I came back to that bathroom, you were sitting there almost crying."

"You don't know what I feel," she argued, her temper coming to the surface. "You don't know what it's like to lose your mum and not even be there to hold her hand! To get the news from someone you don't even know, and know you won't get the chance to see her again before she dies!"

She was nearly shouting now, and he began to see that he liked this fire in her that came out when she felt vulnerable or when she cared deeply about something. In theory, this and his tendency to dish out cutting sarcasm was a recipe for disaster, but it didn't change it: for some reason, and he couldn't explain it, he was rapidly becoming attracted to this woman.

"Oh, I think I do," he replied calmly. He could barely believe he said that, but if it snapped her out of this ridiculously self-centred mindset, it was almost worth his secrets coming to light. She was like him in one noticeable way – she hated other people seeing her weaknesses. That much was obvious by the way she crawled inside a bottle last night rather than talk about it. "My mother committed suicide," he continued. "Do you think I got to say goodbye to her?" he demanded.

She was speechless, amazed at his candidness about his own background. "I'm sorry," she finally said. "I didn't know."

"Why would you?" he reminded her. "I don't tell anyone anything, remember?"

She moved towards him, until they were almost touching. There was something in her that he found almost fascinating. The way she was so hard but at the same time, she was so vulnerable at the moment. He wasn't sure when he noticed that she – her manner, her charm, her sense of humour – was enticing. He'd known from the off that she was charming; it was the only reason Antoine Malick still had a job, after all, and he had assigned her that task in the knowledge her appeal would be successful.

And before he could process exactly what she was doing, her lips were crushing into his, her arms around his neck. He pushed her back into the wall, kissing her without thinking of the consequences for once. He didn't know why he was doing this, with Serena Campbell, no less, but it was something that, in that moment, felt right to him. She was someone who, positively or negatively, brought out a strong reaction in him. Whether he felt sympathy for her or felt like throttling her, he always felt something passionate for her, which was more than he felt for most.

He felt one arm drop from his neck as she felt around for her bedroom door, pulling them both inside. "Serena," he breathed, intending to ask her if she was sure this was what she wanted, but he didn't even get the opportunity to speak again.

"Henrik," she replied, pulling him backwards onto her bed. "Shut up," she advised, pulling him close to her. He had a suspicion she wouldn't have done this if she wasn't so fragile today, but he didn't feel it was wrong. She knew what she was doing, and she started it. It was the only reason he was allowing her to unbutton his shirt, and it was the only reason his hands were wandering to the hem of her top.

As she continued to kiss him, refusing to relinquish her grasp on him, he became used to the idea that, just maybe, she was something he wanted in his life.

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**Hope this is OK!  
Please leave a review and tell me what you thought!  
Sarah x**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: So, again, not what I planned, but I'm getting used to that now. And thanks for the lovely reviews!**

**Sarah x**

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Serena went into work on Monday morning not quite sure if she'd just done the things she could recall, or if the weekend was actually a very long, very real, dream. But on the plus side, Malick needed her on Keller. She listened to him, only taking in about half of what he told her so he had to repeat most of what he was saying. They'd been working together for nearly three hours on one case before he finally turned and said, "What on Earth is going on? You've been walking around shell-shocked all morning."

Shell-shocked was a pretty good description of what she felt right now. She barely understood how one act of humanity on Hanssen's part had turned into them landing in bed together. She just knew that she'd seen something in him on that landing, when he told her how he could possibly empathise with her. Something that made her want him. She turned away from Malick and tried to work out how to put it, but there was no sugar-coating it.

"It's nothing," she lied, but when she faced him again it was obvious he was far from convinced.

"No, Serena, it's definitely something," he contradicted her. She felt the cogs in her mind turn rapidly trying to think of a better way to explain it, how it happened, without it sounding absurd. Even in her own head it sounded crazy, but she felt she had to say it aloud to accept it.

"I slept with Hanssen," she confessed in what was little more than a whisper.

Malick looked at her for a moment and started laughing. Serena raised an eyebrow, and his face fell into disbelief. "Seriously?!" he asked, incredulity crossing his face. "You and Hanssen?"

"I didn't mean it to happen," she replied sincerely. "He took me home on Friday night, and my daughter asked him to stay and make sure I was OK the next morning. Then one thing led to another and..." she trailed off.

"And you ended up sleeping with him?!"

"Well, I say that, but I use the term loosely. I don't think we actually slept much," she smiled to herself.

"Ugh, too much information," he told her. "But I see now why your head's not in the game today. How do you feel about what happened?" he asked her, and she could tell his concern was genuine. Fact was, if Malick cared enough to actually give a toss, then it was genuine.

"I don't remember him taking me home," she admitted. "I was a bit...intoxicated. But Eleanor said she asked him to stay overnight because the roads were icy, but I know it was because she didn't want to handle me on her own," she spilled out, against her characteristic need for protection. "Then we argued the next morning," she said, but reconsidered her choice of words. "Well, not an argument. More like me being an idiot and him telling me something by accident."

She was treading carefully by this point, sure that Henrik didn't want the manner of his mother's death spread around the hospital. "Then I kissed him, and he kissed me, and...you know..." she once again trailed off. "I have to admit, though, I never thought he'd be the one I ended up sleeping with. But he was different, Malick. That guard of his, it was barely there. He was open, and I wasn't in a good place and it just sort of happened."

"I still can't believe it," he told her. "I can't believe you landed in bed with Henrik Hanssen!" he exclaimed, as if it was going to make absorbing the information any easier.

"Keep your voice down," she scolded him gently. In some twisted, screwed up way, she felt that somehow, what happened seemed right. Eleanor had almost no understanding of what Serena was like when she was hurt. Yes, she saw the outward signs of crying and getting drunk – her usual solution to just about anything – but she didn't see what was underneath. Serena made damn sure she never got to see the cracks and the neediness. She didn't want to have her daughter thinking she was anything but independent.

"What are you gonna do about it?" he questioned her, and she knew he was right: one way of the other, this needed dealt with. She didn't know where she stood anymore, and she didn't know if that was a one-off or there was something more in there somewhere. They hadn't mentioned anything to Eleanor, and he had gone home late Saturday afternoon when Eleanor came home from work. Since then, Serena had been trying to make sense of it all, which she was finding quite difficult.

"I don't know," she admitted. "I mean, it's Hanssen, isn't it? He's not exactly easy to work out."

Just then, as they spoke of him, she heard Hanssen's voice behind her. "I wonder if I could have a word, Ms. Campbell?"

She cringed internally, giving Malick a pleading look for help. She turned and found him standing over her yet again. And there it was again...he was making her nervous in the strangest way. It was part of the reason why she had shouted at him on Saturday morning. Between being upset and him making her unusually nervous, her emotions got the better of her.

"Of course," she said, giving him a smile she feared was slightly too warm. "I'll be back soon, Malick," she told the registrar before following Hanssen's lead to his office. They both sat down and he started going on about some report or another, probably what he wanted to talk about on Friday night. She felt her patience wearing thin and leaned her elbows on the desk, he head in her hands. "Henrik, shut up," she said for the second time.

"Excuse me?" he asked, apparently confused by her aggression.

"Stop talking about work. You're avoiding it. I know you are," she accused. He had left her home with no indication of where she stood or how she should have viewed that day. "We can't just pretend Saturday never happened."

"I'm not-"

"You _are_," she cut him off, becoming more and more frustrated. Why did he have to be so infuriating? Of all the men she could have picked, she picked Henrik Hanssen, who was probably the most frustrating individual on the planet. "I want to know where I stand, because I refuse to tiptoe around the fact that, somehow, we ended up sleeping together!"

"You wish to know where you stand?" he asked, confused again. For the first time, she saw him uncertain. The man who had an answer for everything was uncertain of what to say. She gave up and walked out, stalking back down to Keller, where she was actually needed and wasn't just playing some stupid game.

Once she was there, she caught Malick's eye and gave him a look that warned against annoying her. He came over to see her and stated, "I take it your meeting didn't go well."

"He can't decide what he thinks," she sighed. "I'm going down to AAU to see if Michael needs me. Will you be OK up here now?"

"Yeah, sure," he replied. She clapped his arm in thanks and left Keller, needing some head space. She was still in shock that she actually confronted Hanssen about what happened before. She stopped and leaned back against the wall, simply staring at the ceiling. There was something calming about the bland colours around here. The complete opposite of the red now coming over her mind. How could she have been so stupid? Why did she even kiss him in the first place? He wasn't the comforting sort, so that couldn't be what attracted her to him. It was almost that he was so unpredictable that it was exhilarating for her. Normally, she liked order and certainty, both professionally and in the personalities of those around her. But he was something else.

The way he could confuse her in a single word was something she was unfamiliar with, and she probably would've hated it, if only it wasn't _him_. He did something to her that morning. Made her trust him. She didn't even think he meant to do it, but he still managed it. There was just _something_ about him that made her completely fall for him that day.

"Ms. Campbell?" his voice rang out on the deserted emergency-only corridor. She shouldn't really have been there, but she also knew it was the last thing Hanssen was concerned about. He was soon enough standing before her, no files or laptop in his hands. He had come specifically for her. To her surprise, he came extremely close to her, and she forced herself to remain where she was. Either way, this needed to be dealt with.

He leaned forward slowly, and she felt her heart rate runaway. He kissed her, and she couldn't help herself; she put her hands on his face and pulled him close. The way he kissed her was intoxicating. He was simultaneously both so careful and yet so passionate. He was pinning her to the wall, probably because he knew this corridor was rarely ever used, his hands on her waist. She pulled back, smirking breathlessly.

"Have I made my position clear enough for you?" he asked.

"Almost crystal," she replied. She smiled, not believing how satisfied and happy she felt right now. She never would have thought that this man was capable of making her feel so nervous and elated at the same time. She grinned and wrapped her arms around his neck, crushing her lips into his.

She was amazed by how easily he let himself go for her, how he pinned her with his body, pulling her close. "If someone walks in here-" he breathed between kisses.

"I don't care," she retorted, kissing him harder this time. And she really didn't care. She didn't even know how this was going to progress. All she knew was that she was kissing Henrik Hanssen, and she was thoroughly enjoying herself.

* * *

**Hope this is alright!  
Please feel free to review and tell me what you thought!  
Sarah x**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Not entirely sure about this, but here goes. And thanks for all the lovely reviews!**

**Sarah x**

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They went back to Serena's home for dinner that night, but what they found upon their arrival was unexpected. They heard raised voices from inside as Serena opened the front door, and then the unmistakable sound of flesh hitting flesh in temper; Serena went in slowly, and to their shock, they discovered Eleanor with her hand on her jaw, and a young man Henrik presumed to be her boyfriend was looking less than pleased.

A sudden wave of anger and protectiveness crashed over Hanssen. "Out," he almost snarled at the boy, who defiantly attempted to out-stare the Swede. Henrik decided he didn't want to play games – he wanted to find out why Eleanor currently had a bruise forming on her face – and took the boy by the arm. He wasn't going to give him the benefit of the doubt when Serena was trying to calm her daughter down.

He threw the young man out the door and shut it before he could even argue with him. "...were arguing and then he just hit me out of nowhere," Eleanor explained to her mother, and Hanssen heard the tears she was trying to hold back. "It was my own fault. I shouldn't have started on him over-"

"It does not matter what you said to him," Henrik stated unexpectedly. "He was wrong to hit you."

Serena dashed through to the kitchen freezer and found what was probably the first suitable thing she could find – a bag of frozen peas – and placed it, wrapped in a tea towel, to the bruise upon the girl's face.

He left them to it, going to make Eleanor and Serena some hot chocolate. His own aggression had surprised him; he never expected to feel the need to protect them. Especially not Eleanor. Perhaps he would protect Serena if the need ever arose. But Eleanor was not his child. She was almost nothing to do with him, and yet the thought of her getting hurt was awful for him.

Serena's voice whispered behind him, "Thank you."

"Is she alright?" he asked, surprised by how genuine his concern was.

"She's shaken, and that bruise is going to be a nasty one, but I think she'll be OK," Serena allowed. "She's furious, so hopefully she won't go back to him." She was calm on the outside, but her eyes betrayed her shock and anxiety over the situation.

He continued making their drinks, hoping Serena wouldn't decide to have something stronger. Alcohol would be less than helpful in this instance, but she seemed to realise this, because she began helping him. Her hands were shaking; this was affecting her more than she was telling him. So he did something he rarely ever did.

He turned around and simply pulled her into his arms. He could feel her arms wrap around his skinny body, and he rubbed her back soothingly, placing a soft kiss into her hair. "Thank God you were here," she said into his chest. "I don't know what I would've done with him."

"You would have been just fine," he reassured her gently. She felt soft in his arms, reasserting herself as strong but not infallible.

"Why did you react like that?" she asked, curiously looking up to his face. "Why did you forcibly throw him out of the house?"

"Because I felt that was the safest option," he replied, trying to avoid the fact that his first priority was protecting a girl he barely knew. But he could see Serena's mind working overtime, trying to work out what was really going on in his head when he took that boy by the arm and chucked him out the house.

"You barely even thought about it," she reminded him. "As soon as you heard Eleanor being hit and realised what happened, you told him to leave. You didn't even wait for an explanation. Or was it in case he kicked off?" she added. "Is that what it was? You needed to protect Eleanor before anything else?" she asked, and he could tell she wasn't quite believing it.

"She's your daughter," he reminded her. "What kind of partner would I be if I didn't try and defend her from getting hurt?"

She just smiled and kissed him lightly on the lips. "You are a mystery, Henrik Hanssen," she accused. He wasn't quite sure of what she meant, and he didn't really mind. He wasn't used to gratitude, and he wasn't used to Serena being so gracious. Yes, she was polite, and overly so when there was something she was angling for, but never quite with the true grace she showed tonight for his efforts to get rid of the young man who came a slap off her daughter.

* * *

Eleanor watched from the kitchen door, holding some frozen peas to her jaw. She hadn't expected him to hit her. It was some stupid argument that got out of control, but she hadn't expected the blow she received. She hoped he considered this incident as them breaking up, because she refused to take that from anyone.

Even more unexpected was the reaction Henrik took to it. As soon as he realised what happened, she'd seen anger flash across those strangely dark eyes of his, and his first instinct seemed to be to protect her and get rid of him. And for that, she was extremely grateful.

But what shocked her was that her mother was now kissing Henrik Hanssen. Well, now she knew what _they _got up to while she was at work. She'd thought they were cagey when she came home on Saturday night. Her mum didn't say much about work, and definitely not much about her boss – just that he was tall, Swedish, intriguing...she rather thought her mum fancied him when she'd said it. A theory just proven correct by the look of the scene before her.

Her mum hadn't seemed this bright in a long time. Death then divorce in the same year had done something to her. Cynicism, her dad had called it. But she didn't appear cynical right now. She appeared to be very much enjoying herself, making hot chocolate with Henrik.

Eleanor went to sit on the sofa, deciding to let on she was oblivious to the fact her mum was sleeping with her boss. She knew what her mum was like. Highly intelligent, deceptively charming, knew how to get what she wanted. But she knew that look in her eyes. There was no other motive for sleeping with him, though her colleagues would probably disagree. Eleanor knew when her mother was up to something, and she wasn't plotting anything just now.

They came through and she was handed a mug of hot chocolate by her mum, and they sat down, one on either side of her. "Thank you, Mr. Hanssen," she felt compelled to say. "For getting shot of him. I think I'll be telling him where to go tomorrow."

"No problem," he smiled at her. "And, please, call me Henrik."

"Henrik," she allowed.

* * *

Serena rested a comforting hand on her daughter's leg, just hoping she didn't take this as the summation of all men. She was young enough to be easily affected by this experience, but Serena knew she was also open-minded.

"I'm just going to go to bed," Eleanor finally said. "I'm really quite tired now."

"OK," Serena sighed as her daughter kissed her forehead. She then watched in amusement as Eleanor bent over and kissed Henrik's cheek, thanking him once again for dealing with that situation earlier. She watched Eleanor climb the stairs then turned to face Henrik. "She's accepting you," she informed him. "Though it's probably because you're her knight in shining armour tonight," she teased.

He just smiled to himself, and she could see beyond a doubt that he was clueless. He didn't seem to realise what that meant to Eleanor, that he stepped in before she could get hurt any worse. Neither of them had really had anyone defend them before. She suspected it was the same for Hanssen, too.

He gave her a searching look, not knowing what to do now they were alone in the aftermath of that ugly scene. So he simply shuffled across the sofa and sat next to her, and placed an arm carefully around her shoulders.

Serena was amazed by how at ease he could make her feel. She'd expected the opposite, as he was formidable in many ways, and frightening in his calmness, but she felt comfortable here. And she didn't mind that he was complex and reserved and infuriating. All she cared about was that he was here, and she was leaning against his chest.

She looked up and caught her lips gently in his, and his grip on her tightened ever so slightly. When she broke away, she was smiling. She never expected to feel this way, but he wasn't who he'd led her to believe. She did believe that he was withdrawn and sarcastic and sometimes annoyingly logical, but she could see a mile off that he wasn't uncaring or cold-hearted as he displayed himself to be. He cared; he just didn't want hurt because of it.

She'd got it in one earlier: he was still a bit of a mystery to her.

* * *

**Hope this is OK!  
****Please feel free to review and tell me what you think!  
****Sarah x**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Thanks for all the lovely reviews! I'm glad people have taken so well to what I originally thought was the oddest thing I'd ever written. And this is yet another chapter that started out as one thing and transformed into something completely different in the process of being written, so please forgive me!**

**Sarah x**

* * *

Serena found herself on AAU the next day, looking around her. How short life could be, she noticed. Just this morning, she'd had admitted to her care: a young woman who had slipped down the front steps on the ice and banged her head, a fifty-one-year-old who had drank himself to within an inch of death for thirty years, a young college student whose back was possibly broken in an engineering accident...she saw it every day, but it hit her hard today, and she didn't know why.

Perhaps it was the fact that, in less than a week, she'd been faced with the remembrance that her mother was too proud to admit she was dying and the realisation that her daughter was very much open to the real world and all it's unpleasantness. And not to mention that one man had taken her little world and twisted it out of recognition.

She retreated to her office for some form of respite from the harsh reality that no-one lived forever. There was a knock at the door, and Hanssen entered before she could tell him to go away. There was a sense of deja-vu here; she was vulnerable and he was in her office uninvited. "How are you?" he asked, and she heard a strange concern in his tone of voice. "You seemed a little...pessimistic this morning."

"Did I really?" she snapped sarcastically.

"Is this a result of Eleanor's mistreatment? Because I can assure you she's alright," he said, obviously trying to make her feel better about the past week.

"I'm just being stupid," she replied.

"Tell me," he urged her gently. "Even if it _is_ all in your head," he added. "I want to hear it."

She stared up at him, not believing she was so incredibly stupid. How had she fallen for a man like him? He'd done nothing but confuse her and irritate her for months. This was wrong on so many levels. And yet, she felt obliged to tell him, because she'd never seen him actually _care_ about anyone else.

"It feels like...life is gone in a matter of moments when you compare everything we try to fit into it," she explained. "The way some people die, it's awful. The way some people don't have a chance to live, or choose not to." She stood up and looked out the office window onto the ward. She pointed to bed six. "See her? She hit her head off the corner of the stone steps this morning. Possibly severe head trauma. Him – he's nineteen and probably got a broken back after an engineering accident in the college workshop. And him," she pointed to bed eight. "He's drank himself into oblivion for thirty years, lost his wife and kids, and I give him approximately two hours to live. Those kids aren't getting to say goodbye to their dad, and I know, no matter what he's done to them, they'll want to see him one last time. It just makes you feel so small, doesn't it?"

"You see this every day, Serena," he reminded her. "Perhaps reality is hitting harder for you today. I know the past few days have felt less than real to me," he admitted.

She went back to her desk and sat down, and she had to confess to herself that she never expected him to be so understanding. She had expected him to dismiss her attitude today as emotional idiocy. She felt his hand on her shoulder, squeezing lightly. Looking up at him, she realised that, contrary to popular belief in this hospital, Henrik Hanssen did have a heart and did feel confusion and did panic like everyone else did.

She stood up once more and closed the blinds, acutely aware that Henrik was standing behind her. But when she turned, he was closer than she'd thought and she slammed straight into his chest. She smiled in embarrassment, and looked up to find soft amusement in her dark eyes. He leaned down and kissed her, much gentler than he'd done before.

Her hands reached for his face, pulling him closer to her, craving his warmth. The warmth from someone who was so cold on the outside. Just as she thought that, his arms wrapped around her waist, and she could feel him kiss her differently than those times before. This wasn't sheer instinct. This was him telling her he understood that the lines had been blurred, and creating a new line for them. One they both stood on the same side of.

"...can you believe that?! The man is dying of liver failure and still he-" Michael's loud American voice stopped short of what he intended to tell her. "Whoa!"

Serena's back was to the door, and she didn't look at Michael, but Henrik's arms were still wrapped around her, her hands still on his face. She heard him walk out again and shut the door behind him. "Oops," Serena smiled, stretching up to kiss him once more. She knew Michael wouldn't spread this encounter around; he'd screwed up too many times himself, and wasn't hypocritical enough to do that.

She'd expected him to push her away after being caught by Michael, but instead he kissed her with more passion, as if reminding her there were more important things than Michael's teasing. She pulled away from him, still smiling, and said, "I'd better talk to him, hadn't I?"

"Yes, I think that would be wise," Henrik smirked. "He can be rather like an overly excitable child at times, can't he?"

She gave a wide grin as she straightened her blouse and rubbed her lips lightly. "After you," she said, knowing no-one but Michael would even suspect what was really going on. He walked out the office while she held the door and she watched him leave the unit, completely avoiding looking at Michael. She went over to the nurses' station where Michael was on the computer, and leaned across the counter top.

"Is there any way I can mentally _un__-_see that?" he asked her. She didn't say anything; she just smiled, and started nervously picking at her nail polish. She'd never had to justify her feelings to a colleague before. Actually, as highly irritating as Michael could be, she would have gone as far as to call him a friend now. "How the _hell_ did that happen?" he demanded.

"Well," she began coyly. "Do you remember on Friday I wasn't in a very good mood?"

"Understatement of the century," he snorted, and she knew he was recalling the way she spoke to him during that shift that was particularly gruelling for her.

"Anyway," she continued with a glare. "When you went home, I drank some of your whisky. Well, actually, Henrik says I drank most of it," she admitted apologetically. "And he took me home, and my daughter made him stay the night in case he crashed on the ice, and then we argued and then...I kissed him," she finished simply. "And he kissed me and..."

"You slept with him?!" Michael whispered disbelievingly.

"I wouldn't call it _sleeping_," she teased him in the same way she'd done to Malick. She openly grinned as a look of disgust crossed his face, and she had to stifle a laugh. "And, before you ask, I am not attempting to sleep my way into his job."

She felt his scrutinising eyes scan her face and a smirk cross his face. He gave a short laugh and said, "You're actually not after his job, are you?" He looked her over again, and she knew herself well enough to know what he was finding – a smile, a spark in her eyes he'd probably never seen before, a soft blush on her cheeks. "Please tell me you haven't actually fallen for Henrik Hanssen," he added. "It goes against the laws of nature."

"He's not what everyone thinks, you know," she informed him. "He's protective and kind and warm, and he's _very_ good at-"

"OK, shut up!" he ordered her. She took great satisfaction from making him uncomfortable; it wasn't something achieved by many. "Listen to yourself. You sound like a teenage girl."

"And?" she shrugged. "This is the first fun I've had in nearly two years."

"You really do see something in him," he realised. Serena actually couldn't believe she was having this talk with Michael Spence, of all people. Of all the people she knew, she was discussing this...thing...between her and Henrik with Michael.

"Last night," she began. "We got to my house, and we found that my daughter's boyfriend had hit her across the face," she explained. A look of mild horror crept onto his face, so she reassured him, "She's OK. But, he didn't hesitate. He threw the boyfriend out, told Eleanor it wasn't her fault. Made hot chocolate, sat on the sofa with us. Let her thank him. I was shaken by it too, and he just hugged me and told me it would be alright," she concluded her reasons for seeing more in Henrik than others could.

"Alright," he sighed. "I can see you're not gonna be talked out of this. Who knows? Maybe this is something real. Hanssen doesn't take things like that lightly, after all. I take it you want me to keep my mouth shut?" he added.

"Please," she confirmed.

"One condition."

"What?" she asked, halfway afraid of what he wanted.

"You replace the bottle of whisky you drank," he grinned, and she just laughed as he got up and patted her back lightly on his way past to their office.

* * *

**Hope this is OK!  
Please feel free to review and tell me your thoughts!  
Sarah x**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Thanks for all the nice reviews - much appreciated!**

**Sarah x**

* * *

"I talked to him," Serena's voice announced around the door. She smiled and came him, closing the door gently behind her. "He said it _goes against the laws of nature_," she quoted with a laugh. "But he's not going to mouth off about it.

"That would be a first," he remarked, a smirk coming to his lips as he said it. Michael Spence was loud, arrogant and irritating, but he was also passionate, caring and supportive of those who needed it. "What else did he say?" he asked curiously.

"Not much," she answered casually, but he saw the blush creep up to her cheeks. They'd discussed him – they would have had to – but Michael had clearly said something that embarrassed her.

"Come on. Out with it," he ordered her.

"He said I was acting like a teenage girl," she admitted. "He's got a point. I haven't acted with much dignity in all of this, have I? First I get drunk and you have to remove me from AAU, and then I got annoyed with you and, _somehow_, I ended up sleeping with you. And next thing I know, I-" she went to say, but cut herself short, obviously deeming it unwise to voice what she intended to.

"You're what?"

She wandered over to him, leaning against his desk, looking down onto his face. He felt her eyes bore into his, wondering if she was thinking the same as him: how did this turn from her being drunk to them sleeping together and then into something so much more meaningful. The way he felt about her was strange to him. Yes, she annoyed the living hell out of him at times, because she'd rather suffer and make mistakes and inadvertently make others suffer than admit she had weaknesses in her just like everyone else.

But she also showed him something he'd not realised before; he'd realised that, contrary to what he told Maja, relationships were not pure poison. Not all relationships were toxic. If they cared about each other, and looked out for each other, it was possible to take some beauty out of something as crazy and twisted as this...thing...he shared with Serena Campbell.

"I'm falling," she confessed, and Henrik realised _that_ was what Michael had pointed out to her. "You've done something to me," she accused. "You've made me forget that I'm faulty goods."

"Faulty goods?" he replied curiously.

"Oh, come on now, Henrik," she sighed. "Look at me. I'm not exactly the type to say anything other than what I think. I don't know the meaning of the phrase _hold your tongue_. My ex-husband thinks I'm cynical. My daughter has been nagging me to get a life for the past eighteen months solid. I don't function the way everyone else seems to. I don't get attached to people like everyone else does. I don't, with the exception of Chrissie, Ric, Chantelle, Michael and now you, socialise with anyone, and even with those four, it's usually within the hospital. I know for a fact Nurse Maconie thinks I'm _scary_," she added.

Henrik couldn't help but grin at that one. "I hate to tell you this, Serena, but almost every member of staff in this hospital would describe you as _scary_. Apart from Miss Naylor, perhaps, but nobody scares her."

"And would you describe me like that?" she demanded of him. To be honest, he would say she was scary, but he wasn't frightened of her. She was scary in that the hold she had over him was so unusually tight. There was something about her that transfixed him to her.

He didn't say anything; he just took her hand in his and reminded her, "You are not faulty." Not as faulty as him, anyway. He didn't say it aloud, but he couldn't help but think it.

In some odd way, he liked seeing her doubt herself. He didn't like to see her torment herself, but it reminded him she was still human and – as much as she protested – still needed looking after. Just like him. Just like every other person on the planet. Just like every person on the planet, she had her small vulnerabilities – doubting herself, not knowing when to ask for help and having no sense of what she was to others. That, and Jonny Maconie was right; she was oddly terrifying.

"You're not what everyone thinks you are," she smiled. "Everyone is scared to go near you half the time, and there's nothing to be scared _of_."

"Oh, really?" he challenged her, trying to keep the smile from his face. He enjoyed teasing her, watching her squirm. His hands reached for her waist and he stood up, obviously towering over her – he had to be about a foot taller than her.

She just smirked up at him and quipped, "Physical superiority doesn't bother me." He lifted her onto the desk and leaned down to kiss her. He couldn't quite understand how she managed to make him let go of himself like this, but he'd have been lying if he claimed her wasn't enjoying himself. She was incredibly strong-willed and slightly frightening, but her hidden vulnerabilities made her fascinatingly fragile at the same time. "What are we hiding from?" she asked him breathlessly between kisses.

He rolled his eyes and pulled back from her, his hands not leaving her body. "What on Earth do you mean?"

"Why are we hiding this?" she demanded of him. "Is it because of what everyone will think? Because, I assure you, no matter what anyone else says, I'm not trying to sleep my way to the top. And, no matter of what anyone says, I know how I feel about you, as strange as it may be," she explained.

"That's part of it," he admitted, and he saw her smile flicker ever so slightly. He wouldn't deny that he was was worried of the gossip that would concern them. He did trust her, more than he ever expected to, but he knew others were perhaps more cynical about her. "But," he continued before she could shoot her mouth off. "But, I don't partake in relationships, Serena. Not for many years now. I've barely re-established my bearings after you so spectacularly bowled me over. I don't want to shout it from the rooftops just yet in case-"

"In case I screw it up?" she finished for him, and he could see hurt in her eyes as she thought that she was incapable of keeping his trust.

"No," he replied firmly. He wasn't used to being so honest, but lying and evading the issue wasn't going to do anyone any good; he was too logical to do that. "In case _I_ screw it up," he added, using her words. "I do trust you, Serena," he reassured her. "I probably shouldn't, but I do."

She didn't even bother to get narky at him for pointing that last issue out; she knew as well as he did that she'd crossed some lines she should have left alone. But that wasn't the issue here. The issue here was that, for some reason he couldn't quite put his finger on, he trusted her not to hurt him. He knew she wouldn't have been so open about her mother had she not trusted him. He knew she would have told him she was fine last night had she not trusted him, rather than let him comfort her. And, logically, for her to display trust in him not to intentionally harm her, she must not intend to harm him. Logically. But how was he to convince her of that when she was already, and with good reason, given her past exploits, certain he didn't trust her?

"Would you and Eleanor like to come to my house for dinner tonight?" he offered, completely out of the blue. He knew this would convince her; he was so private that allowing others into his home was a considerable step in the right direction for him.

"You can cook?" she asked sceptically.

"Of course I can cook!" he answered. "What do you think I've survived on my whole life?"

"Well, you don't exactly come across as the home cooking type!" she defended herself. "But, yes, we would love to, if there's no risk of food poisoning," she added, a cheeky glint in her eyes.

"I won't poison you," he groaned, quietly enjoying the cheeky side to her after days of her being so vulnerable. There was no way to describe her sometimes.

He leaned down again and put his lips to hers, enjoying himself as she tried to resist, both of them knowing this was not the place or the time. He could feel her trying not to respond, but eventually she succumbed with a soft groan. He smiled into her lips and remembered that this was the first time in years he'd let himself go. He didn't know what attracted him to Serena; in every discernible sense, this was completely illogical. But logic was irrelevant when it was so obviously flawed.

He knew she was the type of woman he would normally have kept at arms' length. She was manipulative in the extreme, and normally he would have utterly repelled someone like her, but she had changed his view on her somehow. He was beginning to believe that it had been the discovery of her weaknesses; she, like him, attempted to hide them as far as humanly possible, but when the cracks showed, it was strangely endearing to him.

"We should go back to work," she whispered as he continued to kiss her. "We've already been caught out once today."

He pulled away from her, realising she was pointing it out for his benefit. He, after all, was the one who wished to keep this behind closed doors for now. She got off the desk and stretched up to give him a quick kiss before heading for the door. She turned back and gave him a smile before she left, shutting the door gently behind her.

In such a short visit to his office, they'd covered a lot of ground – she'd admitted what little she saw in herself sometimes, and he'd admitted his own flaws. But, somehow, he felt that maybe this could be something he could build on. Despite everything, he honestly believed she cared for him now. He'd already proved to himself he wanted to protect both her and Eleanor. Maybe this was twisted, and the logic was flawed, but between them, they were strong enough to make a go of it. Of that much, he was sure.

* * *

**Hope this is OK!  
Please feel free to drop a review and say what you thought!  
Sarah x**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: How this chapter came about, I will never understand, but I hope it worked out OK. And thanks for all the reviews you've all left.**

**The songs are:  
1. "Blown Away"  
2. "Twisted"  
Both by Carrie Underwood (I have a rather unhealthy obsession with her music right now).**

**Sarah x**

* * *

Serena and Henrik were preparing dinner in his kitchen; he'd protested, but she wanted to spend some quite, quality time with him. She wanted to see how he operated. She wanted to see him at ease in his own home. She was busy chopping vegetables when music started playing somewhere in the house. "Do you hear that?" she asked him curiously, wondering where it was emanating from.

"Yes," he replied, placing down his knife. "My speaker must have turned on again," he sighed. "I'll just go and put it off." He leaned down and kissed heron the way past, and she felt curiously at home. She wasn't nervous like she'd expected when she and Eleanor headed over here. She even felt comfortable enough to allow Eleanor to please herself rather than have an eye on her.

The music hadn't stopped; she presumed he was having technology troubles. But then he quietly returned and beckoned her without speaking. She gave him a suspicious look but what greeted her was unexpected; the music was growing closer.

A piano was playing and a woman was singing a song she vaguely recognised.

_...some people called it taking shelter  
She called it sweet revenge_

When she found her daughter messing with Henrik's piano, she groaned and proceeded to attempt to storm into the room and tell her to stop. But Henrik stopped her, with his grasp firm on her wrist. "Listen," he whispered.

She obeyed, and heard what she never thought she would.

_Shatter every window till it's all blown away_  
_Every brick, every board, every slamming door blown away_  
_Till there's nothing left standing_  
_Nothing left of yesterday_  
_Every tear-soaked whiskey memory blown away_  
_Blown away..._

"She's really rather good," Henrik whispered into her ear.

"I didn't know she could play the piano," she replied, letting his arm creep around her waist. "She never showed any interest in playing music."

_There's not enough rain in Oklahoma_  
_To wash the sins out of that house_  
_There's not enough wind in Oklahoma_  
_To rip the nails out of the past_  
_Shatter every window till it's all blown-_

Eleanor jumped off the stool when she realised she'd been caught and said, rather nervously, "I'm sorry."

"It's fi-"

"I'm really sorry," she added. "It's just that it isn't often I get the opportunity to play on a real piano. I just couldn't resist. I'm sorry," she said once more.

"I was _trying_ to say it's fine," Henrik finished his original statement. "Perhaps you should stop copying your mother and allow people to talk," he smirked. "Where did you learn to play?"

"Music teacher's been helping me learn," she explained, with an apologetic look at Serena. "He's got a group of us after school every Tuesday and Thursday. It started as mandatory practice and then we all enjoyed it, so it became a regular thing. We're learning modern songs," she added.

Serena expected Henrik to tell her daughter off, and she would have backed him fully, but she surprised her. He sat down on the stool, and gestured for Eleanor to join him. He began playing a song and Serena watched Eleanor's face light up – she clearly knew how to play it, because she sat down and played with him.

The other thing that surprised her was that Eleanor could sing. It surprised her that Henrik would make an effort with a young woman he had no relation to, apart from the fact he was sleeping with her mum. It surprised her that they didn't clash immediately; Henrik was very much the type to stay on the straight and narrow at all costs, and Eleanor had a tendency to take the most awkward route possible to get where she wanted.

Eleanor started singing the song, and Serena wondered why Henrik picked that one.

_Baby, you're a wrecking ball  
Crashing into me  
Nothing I can do but fall  
Piece by piece  
You broke down every part of me  
That ever thought I would never need you, baby_

Then it clicked in her head. He was making an effort with Eleanor because he was trying to be serious about all this. He was trying to show Eleanor he was trustworthy and, despite his rather formal and uptight manner, really quite friendly behind closed doors.

It was _that_ which made Serena so unexpectedly fall for him.

It was _that_ which confused her so much.

It was _that_ which caused her heart to melt overnight.

It was _that_ which made Serena wonder whether she could build a future with him.

_It's twisted_  
_Messed up_  
_And the more I think about it_  
_It's crazy, but so what?_  
_I might never understand it_  
_I'm caught up and I'm hanging on_  
_I'm gonna love you, even if it's wrong_

After less than a week, she could not believe she was considering that. She couldn't believe she could see them living together. She couldn't believe she was wondering if he would be easy to live with.

She felt warmth flood through her as Eleanor and Henrik played music together, acting like they'd known each other years. Acting like they trusted each other. It made her wonder what had been said while she was passed out drunk the night before she first kissed Henrik.

_Everybody's telling me_  
_I'm over my head_  
_But they don't feel you loving me_  
_They all say_  
_I've gone crazy_  
_Maybe, but it's too late to save me_  
_I'm too tangled_

Henrik looked around briefly to Serena, and she couldn't help but grin at him. Eleanor didn't look round – she probably needed to concentrate more than he did – but Serena could see she was smiling as she sang along to what they were playing.

She had to resist the temptation to go over there and put her arms around him for supporting her daughter's obvious talent rather than berate her for using the piano without permission, as Serena had expected him to. She simply stood there, leaning against the doorpost, wondering what she ought to do. She never once thought she'd feel so deeply about a man who had irritated him to death for months, until she found herself kissing him so passionately in the heat of the moment.

_It's twisted  
Messed up  
And the more I think about it  
It's crazy but so what?  
I may never understand it  
I'm caught up and I'm hanging on  
I'm gonna love you even if it's wrong  
Even if it's twisted, yeah_

_Maybe it's not right_  
_But that's alright_  
_Yeah, it's alright tonight_

There was something...amazing...about him. The way he could click so well with Eleanor astounded her. Not to mention the way he made her fall into him. Earlier today, she'd tried to restrain herself while they were in the hospital by not responding to his touch, but he kissed her until she couldn't help herself.

It wasn't right, but she couldn't say it was wrong, either. She thought she knew what she was doing, but he'd changed her mindset in so little time that it actually frightened her.

_It's twisted_  
_Messed up_  
_And the more I think about it_  
_It's crazy but so what?_  
_I may never understand it_

_It's twisted_  
_Messed up_  
_And the more I think about it_  
_It's crazy but so what?_  
_I may never understand it_  
_I'm caught up and I'm hanging on_  
_I'm gonna love you even if it's wrong_

She noticed he was playing rather slowly, and she tried to think once more why this song came to mind for him. The piano was beautiful, of course, but, knowing Henrik, there was more to it.

She felt strange. Messed up. Confused. Soft-hearted. Warm. All the things she never was.

_Even if it's twisted  
Even if it's just a little bit  
Just a little bit  
Just a little twisted yeah  
It's twisted  
Yeah_

They finished playing and Eleanor gave Henrik a wide smile; Serena could see her daughter was accepting towards him, and that, for some reason, trusted him implicitly. It was probably because of what happened with her boyfriend – her make up was barely concealing the resulting bruise – but it was something that made Serena's life both easier and more complicated.

Henrik stood up and made his way over to Serena, and she couldn't stop herself from smiling at him. There was a soft warmth in his eyes that made her consider that he was actually, underneath all of it, capable of being a family man. One who would protect his partner and step-daughter, who would try and make them happy.

They returned to the kitchen, leaving Eleanor to play the piano and sing to her heart's content. "She really is quite talented," Henrik said out of the silence between them as they concentrated on the food.

Serena just gave him a smile and returned her concentration to what she was doing. But then she couldn't help herself. She had to ask. "Why that song?"

"Sorry?" he asked, and she heard the surprise in his voice. He turned to face her, and she could tell he'd heard her but didn't want to answer.

"That song you and Eleanor played. Why that one?"

He sighed and looked at the floor for a very brief moment before answering. "It says everything," he replied simply. "It explained these past few days rather well."

She just shook her head gently to herself, half-amused at him. Typical. He couldn't tell her outright so he has her daughter sing a song to explain it. So typical of the man. But it was one of the most endearing things about him. The fact he couldn't always put his feelings into words and let her know exactly what his heart said. Because she knew he had a heart. She knew he had a bruised and battered heart.

She had to admit, she felt the same way. This was so odd, so unexpected, so twisted...but it felt _right_ somehow. Something felt like they shouldn't have been doing it, but at the same time, she actually wanted him. And she hadn't wanted a man in a long time.

"_You_," she announced, "are a strange man, Henrik Hanssen."

"And _you_," he replied, barely suppressing a smile, "are a strange woman, Serena Campbell."

She looked down to her waist and found his arms wrapped around her, and then looked up to see his soft smile. This was mental. Totally and utterly mental. And yet, it was also totally and utterly beautiful to her.

He kissed her gently, and she had to remind herself Eleanor was only two rooms away, and wasn't supposed to knew her mother was sleeping with the boss. Her hands rested on his chest, and she could feel his heart beating hard in his chest. It reminded her that he was not mechanical like everyone seemed to think he was, but a human being, with feelings and passion and love to give, even if he did find it difficult. But she was determined to make it easier for him.

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**Hope this was OK!  
Please feel free to leave a review and tell me what you think!  
Sarah x**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Not sure, but I think this might be finally finished :) thanks for all the lovely reviews - glad you've enjoyed it.**

**Sarah x**

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As the days and weeks passed, Henrik found himself strangely at ease with the havoc Serena had wreaked upon his previously very private, very secluded life. His first impressions, and what she led him to believe, did not paint a full picture of herself. She'd tended to let him see only her most destructive traits – manipulativeness, deceit, coercion – hiding her rather affectionate nature underneath. He was guilty of exactly the same, he recognised with a sigh as he sat in a crowded bar, facing the party Serena had twisted his arm into attending.

They sat together, watching his staff, her friends, enjoy themselves, and Henrik was clueless. This was a birthday party, for crying out loud. What was he meant to do?! He did the only thing that occurred to him, aside from sitting there looking like a total moron; he held out a hand and led her to the bar, ordering her a drink. "Out of interest, whose birthday are we celebrating?" he asked her, handing her a glass of wine.

"Michael's," she answered. "He's a bit miserable because his kids are on the wrong side of the Atlantic, so Chrissie, Sacha and I organised this to try and cheer him up," she elaborated. "Seems to be working," she laughed, nodding to Michael, who was chatting up an extremely pretty, rather young red-headed nurse, who was quite blatantly out of his league.

"He appears to be punching above his weight," Henrik joked, bringing a surprised grin to Serena's lips.

"Does he ever do anything else?" she reminded him, sipping her wine. Fair point; Michael did have a tendency to pick the ones he couldn't, or shouldn't, have. Henrik just smiled into his glass, wondering what was going through her mind. She seemed at peace here, like she didn't care who saw them talking, who saw the look he saw in her eyes.

He held out a hand for her to take, leading her away from the loud music, round the corner to the bathrooms. They hid behind the wall, and Henrik let her lean against the wall. He felt her soft hands reach for his face, kissing him gently. This was the sort of thing he never did; he would never have dreamed of doing this so publicly. But she'd brought out that slightly more daring side to him. The side who liked the thought of hiding and sneaking around, simply because it was _fun_.

His hands were on her hips, pushing her lightly against the wall, and he kissed her with slightly more force. She let out a soft sigh, relaxing under his grasp. "Enjoying yourself?" he asked, smiling as he kissed her.

"Definitely," she replied. But then she opened her eyes and her gaze was frozen behind him. "Uh, Henrik?" she whispered. She took a hand off his face to point at the space behind him, and he turned to find a thoroughly astounded Jonny Maconie. His mouth was hanging open in shock, and Henrik had to suppress the urge to chuckle.

The nurse shook his head, as if trying to clear some order into himself, and walked away. As soon as he was gone, Serena burst out laughing. "Did you see his face?!"

Henrik was thinking of something else entirely, though; he was thinking that Jonny would tell Jac and Mo, and they would tell Sacha and Malick, and they would tell Chrissie and Chantelle, and then it would spread before they could stop it.

But did he really care so much about that? He'd come to trust Serena, and he knew she trusted him. He would even go as far as to say he'd fallen for her in the most unexpected way. He went back through to the bar, and saw Jonny knocking back a drink. He wasn't saying anything to anyone. He was still speechless, which was an achievement, since he never seemed to stop making smart comments. Apparently he'd yelled, "Sex pest!" across Darwin, pointing at Jac, when Imelda Cousins suspended Ric, a story Henrik found rather amusing.

He sat down in the nearest spare seat, trying to logically find the right path to take. Letting go of Serena, he found, was not an option. Not one he could live with, at any rate. One option was to let them talk, and let them speculate. The only other way was to let them see on his terms, so they saw it for themselves and didn't have to gossip on quite such a ridiculous level.

Serena was suddenly sitting across the table from him, gazing intently at him. "What are we going to do?" she asked gently, obviously concerned he was staggered by being caught by Jonny.

He stood up and went to the dance floor, where almost everyone he knew was slowly dancing around. He beckoned for her to join him, and she hesitantly obeyed. His hand fell to her waist, and she was reaching up for his shoulders. "I thought you didn't want anyone to know? I thought you didn't want to jinx it?" she asked, confused by his behaviour.

"And I thought you'd learned when to be quiet," he replied with a soft smile.

He heard her quietly laugh, and knew what he was going to do. He leaned down slowly, and she whispered a warning, "Henrik."

"Serena," he returned, his smile gentle and his confidence rising. He pressed his lips into hers, and everything seemed to stop. The world around him was irrelevant, and he realised other people didn't matter. The things they said didn't matter. They were better than that. He could feel her arms lock around his neck as she struggled to keep her balance in those insane shoes of hers.

Her heart was beating hard and fast; he could feel it pulsing through his body. He knew why. It was the combination of everything he felt too: attraction, nerves and...love? Could he really have grown to actually love this woman?

He heard the movement of others around him stop; everyone had stopped to see what was happening. He heard a squeal of, "Awww!" emanating from whom he was certain was Chantelle Lane. He heard a wolf whistle, too, which was probably from Michael or Malick. When they pulled apart, everyone they knew was looking at them, very much bewildered.

"Get in there, Mr. Hanssen," Malick said with a laugh. Henrik had a feeling the registrar already knew, but said nothing. They eventually returned to their business, though they seemed slightly more lively now. Ollie Valentine and Tara Lo went to find a table to sit at, as did Jac and Jonny. He knew his temporary replacement had, however lamely, attempted to interfere with them at one point, but Henrik was unwilling to regulate anyone's personal life. It would have been rather hypocritical of him now, anyway.

"Happy now?" he asked her gently, resuming their slow dance.

"Very," she admitted. "More than I thought I would be."

"My sentiments exactly."

He pulled her head to his chest and kissed her hair lightly, more contented than he'd been in a long, long time. Who knew that the woman who deceived him, went around him, hacked his email accounts and angled for his job would just so happen to be his perfect match? It was extremely bizarre.

What amazed him was that he never once found this painful. He'd clicked with her the second he discovered there was a woman beneath all that charm and the manipulative personality complex. And he then discovered that woman was one he felt strongly about. Even her daughter was easy to get along with. She'd found out quite early on when she got home from a night out to find him and her mother arguing like children over a game of cards on the living room floor, until Serena had kissed him to distract him.

"I think I love you," she confessed into his chest, and he knew that admission must have taken a lot of guts for her. "No," she contradicted herself. "I _know_ I love you."

He stood her up before him, his hands gentle on her face. "I love you too," he replied, and he saw shock cross her face at hearing those words. He was pretty shocked at them, himself, if he was perfectly honest with himself. She just grinned and reached up to kiss him quickly.

He pulled her into his arms, into a tight embrace, not caring who watched or who said what. It was well and truly out there now, and they could think what they liked. He looked at Michael at the bar and called across to him, "Happy Birthday, Michael!"

Michael's head snapped round when he heard the greeting, and he seemed surprised he'd been wished a happy birthday by his boss. "She knock a different personality into you or something?" he replied cheekily. Henrik didn't pull him up for it, for two reasons: it was his birthday, and he wasn't exactly sober. And he had a very fair point; he had relaxed a little since he found something and someone to relax with.

This, he realised, was a normal man's life. He was at a party, with his "other half," dancing with her, calling "Happy Birthday" to the man who was, as usual, at the centre of attention. He was looking forward to the prospect of going to her home, sitting down and having a laugh with Serena and Eleanor. If they were still sober enough by that time, of course.

Her warm body wrapping itself around his was a comfort, and, for once, he was perfectly happy with himself.

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**Hope this is OK!  
Please feel free to leave a review and tell me what you thought!  
Sarah x**


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